


M[ollymauk] T[ealeaf]

by protectoroffaeries



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Free Verse, Gen, Poetry, Pre-Campaign, The Fletching and Moondrop Traveling Carnival of Curiosities - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 22:08:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14482218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protectoroffaeries/pseuds/protectoroffaeries
Summary: empty,he whispers





	M[ollymauk] T[ealeaf]

one foot dangles into the grave he 

crawled out of last night.

he keeps his eyes on the treetops;

a canopy in transition from 

green to gold-red-orange

no acknowledgement 

of the six-by-six-by-six hole in the dirt 

or the dried blood smeared on 

the oak trunks and the dandelions 

or the pockets of scorched grass  

scattered across the clearing 

or the decrepit hut two hundred feet away 

that Toya tried to explore before

Kylre dragged her back to the tents.

 

_ empty,  _ he whispers

voice hoarse from gargling loose earth,

he slides his fingers across the ground;

his broken nails find the scratches 

that chipped away at them as he

uprooted himself from soil packed 

tight enough to keep the coyotes 

from digging up his rot.  

the red eye on the back of his hand 

stares outward, forever unblinking,

watching, searching, asking,

and yet no one looks back at it– 

what if their gaze catches on his scars? 

_ yes, the grave is empty,  _ says Gustav

 

he mumbles to himself, 

though the gods only know

if it’s pure nonsense or devil-speak

it dissolves into whimpers 

as the red eyes in his head stop 

darting and roll out of focus.

his arrow-tipped tail flicks

_ back and forth back and _

_ forthbackandforthback _

undulating like the tightrope 

Mona and Yuli traverse every night

one missed beat, and he’ll plummet 

sixty feet - or six - whichever distance

ends him permanently. 

 

_ he looks like a burden,  _ says Ornna 

fire in her eyes and tone that she can’t

take off with the rest of her act. 

he cocks his head to the side,

curved horns brushing against 

the lavender skin of his shoulder, 

and swings his foot around– 

he looks like an overgrown child who

only understands the mood of the people

around him, and not the nuances. 

or maybe he catches everything 

the way they all stare at him and approach

with low shoulders and soft murmurs and he

can’t remember the shape of words, save  _ empty _

 

he stands up, and walks away

from the grave, never looks back 

makes it less than fifteen feet 

he collapses, tears leaving dirty tracks 

down his face, shaking like he’s seen

something sinister skittering in the underbrush,

but it’s just him, it’s who he can’t place. 

Bo grabs him by the oversized brown shirt

they gave him, when they found him 

with his knees tucked to his chest 

naked as each of them feels when 

the tents are packed and the customers are gone, 

and carries him back toward the carnival.

everyone else is a burden, too. 

 

Desmond whispers to him as they walk,

as he’s carried, about nightmares and scars

gives him tips on how to cover both with stage makeup. 

he responds with all that he can:  _ empty  _

shaking his head so hard the rest of his body

thrashes with him, each of the red eyes

on his skin glinting against the sunlight;

he screeches loud enough to send an

unkindness of ravens flying from their perches.

it’s Gustav who suggests it’s  _ M.T.  _

_ the letters, in Common, M.T.  _

and he settles, no longer frenzied,

he doesn’t say anything else, though

never tells them what  _ M.T.  _ means. 


End file.
